CHAPTER 13 - FAMILY
The more Harry thought about his return to Privet Drive the more anxious he became. As lunch approached he could smell the cooking taking place in the kitchen but he was too busy in his own thoughts to get hungry. He kept wanting to leave before lunch but couldn't bring himself to do it.
The food was almost ready when Harry couldn't take it anymore. He told everyone that he was going to have lunch at his Aunt and Uncle's house. Mrs. Weasley scoffed at this, "you haven't had a decent meal there in seventeen years." It took some convincing but he assured everyone that he would be fine.
In all the excitement he forgot about what he told the twins and apologized to them. "When I get back you guys are first on my list," he told them. He was sure they believed his sincerity as he stepped outside the door of number twelve Grimmwauld Place. Concentrating on his destination he felt compression and then landed at the end of a street.
The end of Privet Drive never seemed like a great place to Harry but as he stood there now he got a great sense of warmth from the place. He never noticed it before but the street was designed in a way that was almost welcoming. Letting out a sigh he walked to his destination.
He paused for a moment at the door he spent his entire life hating. He lifted his hand to knock when the door opened. His Aunt Petunia was staring back at him with an emotionless face. There was some awkward few seconds where they just stared at each other before his aunt spoke.
"Are you going to come in then?"
"um…yeah…I guess," Harry said. He didn't really know what was going on as he stepped through the threshold of the house. He followed Petunia to the kitchen where she was fixing sandwiches.
"I figured you were coming when I saw wizards walking around the neighborhood," she said as she finished preparing lunch.
"I had them come here to keep watch over the house," Harry told her. Petunia stopped for a moment, looking out of the window.
"I didn't know you had that kind of power," Petunia said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. The tension in the room thickened as she brought a platter over to the table. Harry felt his stomach turn over from nervousness. He didn't really have any expectations on this meeting but it seemed like it wasn't going to go well. Petunia finally looked at him after she sat down. "Thank you Harry, that was very kind of you," she said with what seemed like sincerity. But Harry, not having much experience with his aunt's sincere side, couldn't be sure it was true.
"I have some questions for you Aunt Petunia," Harry said hesitantly. He decided to get right to the point rather than try to make small talk. "What kind of communication have you had with our kind and how long has it gone on?"
"The first contact I had was when you were left on our doorstep 16 years ago," Petunia said. She offered Harry a sandwich while she took one for herself. Harry's hand was shaking as he grabbed one, realizing that this is probably the best fed he'd been in this house. "That is when I made the pact with Dumbledore. After that there was nothing until later."
"Until four years ago," Harry said. Petunia looked surprised as she nodded her head.
"How did you know?"
"It was the dementors," Harry replied. "You said that you heard my father telling my mum about it but you answered so quickly. No one hears something like that and then automatically recites it after years. I figured someone had written you about the dementors at school."
"Yes," replied Petunia as she found her voice. "Dumbledore wrote me describing the situation. He also told me that I should not reveal it to you. I don't know why, he always seemed a little weird about what you should know."
"Dumbledore was like that. He had his reasons and I've grown accustomed to not questioning them. He was the most intelligent man I ever knew, and his decisions were usually the correct ones."
"Was?" Petunia asked. "So that's why the letters stopped."
"Dumbledore was killed last year," Harry felt his voice starting to give out before he stopped. He took a couple of seconds to compose himself. "What do you mean letters? Had he been writing to you?"
"He had," Petunia said curtly. "Since four years ago he's been writing me about two letters a year explaining what you've been through. I guess he felt that having at least one person here know what's been going on was for the best.
"We carried on the same way we always had. I felt a lot of anger towards my sister but I never hated her, Harry. When you told me this Voldemort had returned it broke me up inside. I feared for my family. I'm jumping at every little noise." Her words started to come quickly and Harry had felt something he never felt for his aunt before; compassion.
"Aunt Petunia, we're doing everything we can to get rid of him. There's extra protection here. There's not much I can say but you're better protected here than most other places."
"Thank you Harry, that makes me feel a little better." There were moments of silence before Harry spoke again.
"Where's Dudley at?" He noticed his cousin had not been around. He knew that he was at school but he thought he came home at nights. Harry realized that he knew nothing of his cousin's school.
"He stays at the school," Petunia replied. "And Vernon will be at work until later this afternoon. When Dumbledore stopped writing me I had assumed something had happened. Dudley has been so out of control lately and I didn't know what to do. I told him everything about you Harry and he was pretty shaken up about it."
Harry was shocked. He didn't think that Dudley cared whether he was alive or not. Why would Dudley care what had happened to him?
"He was so absorbed in his own world that I needed him to see what else was out there. He'll never tell you but I think he's a little sorry for how he treated you."
Harry couldn't believe what his aunt was telling him. He looked back at how much he had changed recently and guessed that Dudley must be maturing, although he didn't know how.
"Harry, I have some things for you," Petunia said as she stood up and walked to a cabinet in the corner of the dining room. "I was going to give them to you before you left this last time but you didn't give me a chance." She grabbed a dusty box out of the cabinet, shut the door, and returned to her seat.
"First off is this," she said as she laid a leather bound, thick book in front of him. "I'm not sure how it got with this other stuff but I kept it all the same." Harry picked up the book and looked at the spine. Written in gold lettering was the title: A Study of Blood and its Properties. Harry gaped at it realizing just how important it could be.
"I guess you know what it's for then," Petunia said as she looked at her nephew. "Right, well this has apparently been in your family for years and it was given to me as your father's possession." She pulled out what appeared to be an armored wristband.
Harry sat the book aside as he took it from his aunt. It was about seven inches long and, from what Harry guessed, was goblin made. He turned it over and noticed a design split in half by where it clasped around the wearer. A pushed the gap together and saw an engraved lion, which would be whole once the wristband was fastened. This must have been Godric Gryffindor's Harry thought.
"This last one has been dear to me and I want you to have it," Petunia said after several seconds. She pulled out an old photograph and handed it to Harry. He looked at it in amazement. There were his parents, Petunia, a grumpy Vernon, and two older people waving back at him.
"Those are your grandparents Harry," Petunia said. "This was taken the Christmas before you were born. Lily hadn't started to show yet, nor had I." Harry could see a tear fall down her face as he knew his eyes were starting to water as well. "He passed about a year after Lily and her not much longer after that."
Harry continued to stare at the photograph. In all his years he never really wondered too much about his grandparents. He had missed so much of his life that other kids enjoyed.
"Harry, I know what's out there. I read about the murders in the paper and I hear about the disappearances on the news. I remember from last time though I know more now than I did then. This has to end." Her voice was starting to break and she dropped her head to stare into her lap.
"It will Aunt Petunia. It will," Harry told her. He slipped the photograph in his shirt pocket. The silence hung in the air as neither of them knew quite what to say. Petunia spoke first.
"If it's going to happen, I guess you had better get started then." She stood up from the table and Harry followed her. She opened the front door for him.
"Good luck Harry. If you ever need someplace to stay, you can come back here."
"Thank you Aunt Petunia. Thanks for everything." He stuck his new possessions under his arm and walked out of the house. As the door shut he stood on the porch, his mind lost in thoughts.
He knew that, even though he and his aunt would never love each other, they didn't want the other to be hurt. It was a strange feeling to view a family he hated differently. He was so absorbed in his own mind that he didn't hear the clunk of a walking stick approach him, although he did feel the strong hand that gripped his shoulder.
"You alright sonny?" Mad-Eye Moody was looking down at him. Moody had never liked the Dursley's so he was probably concerned.
"Yeah," Harry said, finding his voice. "Thank you for watching over them."
"Nobody wants to see the innocent die."
They walked to the end of Privet Drive in silence and when they got there Moody gave Harry an awkward nod to say goodbye. Harry nodded back and concentrated on his destination. He felt the compression and left his old home. A home he could say that his blood relatives lived. A past home that he was now grateful for.